Where it all began
by analog-warrior
Summary: I little story about Richard Kruspe and Rammstein


He stands there and looks down at the ashes of a now extinct camp fire. There must have been some kids there the night prior. It's morning and through the light mist, beer cans and foot prints can bee seen all over the place. It was so like that night a long time ago, when it all started. He lifted a boot and nudged a chared, black stick poking out of the ashes. It broke at the lightest contact of his toe. He remembered that night...

* * *

"C'mon! Play something for me!" 

"No!"

"You're such a Killjoy."

"What the hell- I can't believe you opened it!"

"It's just a guitar."

"You're lucky the fire isn't bright enough to see it. If it's got any scratches- who knows how much it's worth now!"

"Lighten up and have a drink! God, Reesh!"

"_Don't_ call me Reesh!"

Richard Z. Kruspe tore his eyes away from the beautiful- but no longer bran new -Kirk Hammett guitar and glared at the drunken girl next to him. She had done the unthinkable and opened the guitar's box. Not just rummaged through his bags and gone through his wallet-

_"Oooh. Who's this girl in the picture I found in your billfold, Reesh?"_

_"Give that back!"_

-She'd taken the bran spanking new _still-in-the-box_ KH and opened it. Ripped it out of it's safe, soft womb. Dragged it out of it's familiar room. Torn it out of it's protective coccoon... You see where he's going with this. If this were a guy giggling drunkedly at the scowl on his face, he'd have already beaten crap out of him.

Richard had bought the guitar in Hungary in hopes of taking it back to Germany. East Germany. Then maybe he could have sold it and made some profit. That had been the original plan. This guitar had torn quite a chunk out of his wallet that he'd hope to later fill back up with a little interest. He and some friends had taken a detour and stopped at a popular camping ground. There were girls there.

A lot of them had looked at him with with an eye he wasn't familiar with. Richard wasn't used flirts back home. Everyone looked at everyone else in suspision. No one trusted you like they did in Hungary. Maybe that was what had gone wrong. This girl had thought she had Richard's trust before she even knew his last name.

When she laughed in his face, Richard could smell booz. "You're funny when you're angry Reesh."

"Stop calling me that," he said, stroking the guitar's strings gently.

"Why? 'Richard' is stupid. It's like a politition's name. 'Reesh' is awsome. It's hip and cool! 'Reesh!' You can whip it out quick... Ha ha ha! I said 'whip it out'!"

Richard tried not to smile. Even though he was trying his best to sulk, the atmosphere was too lofty. Friends and strangers were all all around the camp fire. Some were drinking. Others were talking. Some seemed to be trying to read ther neighbors palm. A _lot _were making out. _Why can't that be me? _he thought. _What do chicks like?_

"Whoa!" Richard heard from an approaching voice. "Awsome guitar. Is that the Kirk you were oogling?"

He looked up to see his friend Rudy approaching. This was _his _trip. He was almost as big a music enthusiast as Richard was... Almost.

"Uuh...Yeah. How'd you know?"

"Because I saw you making sweet love to it with your eyes at the music store window. Don't you remember? I knew you'd buy it. And It's about time you opened it, too."

"Me? No I didn't ope-"

"That thing goes with you as good as black on white, Reesh." He took a seat a few logs down from Richard.

He and Rudy were pretty good friends. He was one of the few people he allowed to call him 'Reesh'. Most of the time, anyway.

He looked down at the guitar in his lap to hide his blush. "You...You think so?"

"Oh, yeah. Totally! All it needs is a good strap. Maybe with skulls? No... Leather, maybe? Yeah. I wide leather strap would kick ass!"

"Yeah!" the first girl cheared in. "Leather is so hot! You're a rock star. Play something, rockstar"

Richard shook his head slowly and smiled. This was the girl he was supposed to be mad at. But he liked the way she was going. He remembered on of his favorite KISS songs and tried to play it. After only a few seconds, he heard his friend speak.

"Wow, Reesh," Rudy called. "You suck!"

Richard's face got a little bit hotter but he kept playing. The girl next to him stood up and began to do a dance she obviously had just made up. "Woooot! Richard! Yeah!!!"

He played faster, trying to block out the bad sound with hard riffs. The girl got more excited and dance more and more. Got more excited with every note. And that's when Richard figured it out.

_Chicks like guys who play guitar._

"Oh, God!" Rudy put his hands over his ears. "You really suck, Reesh! Cut it out!"

"Hey!" He yelled back at his friend. When he took his fingers away from the neck, they were sore. But he liked it. The pain was like blisters after a hard day's work "All I need is some practice! I'll get better! Just watch!"

"Suuuuuure" Rudy taunted.

"Woooo! Reeshy"

"For the love of- Will you quit callin' me that!?"

* * *

_-Honk, honk!_

Richard heard the horn of the bus not 50 meters behind him. He had no idea how long he'd been standing there. It felt like an hour but was probably no more than two or three minutes. He pulled the collor of his coat tighter around his neck and, trying to ignore the air horn, get back on his train of thought.

"..."

_Honk, honk!_

Sigh. "..."

_Honk, honk!_

"..."

_Honk- honk -hoooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooooonnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn-_

"Okay! Damn!"

Richard spun around on his heel stomped his way back to the bus. Schneider poked his head out of the sliding door when he heard his band mate's cuss and lamented, "Hurry up, man! We're gonna' be late!"

"What the hell!? I was having a moment back there!"

"Do you know how off course this has taken us?" Schneider said to Richard as he approached.

"Don't know. Don't care," he lied.

"What's so special about this place any way?"

"Nothing." Another lie. Richard looked down at the steps, getting ready to climb aboard the tour bus, but the drummer wouldn't budge. Richard looked up at him and said, "Move."

"Eww. Is this the place you lost lost you lost your virginity?"

"No." Another lie. Well... Maybe. Richard couldn't remember some of that night. Maybe if he wasn't _rudely _interupted...

"Then why are we here?" he asked, still not making room for the guitar player to get by.

"Get out of the way."

"Tell me.

"Do you know how off course we are?"

"Wait. Didn't I just say that?"

"Move it!"

"C'mon! You can tell your old buddy Doom. What's going on?"

"Make way-" he used his trumph card "-Chris"

"Dude," Christoph said, reeling back. "You promised you wouldn't call me that any more." Richard smirked and stepped inside. _Works every time_, he thought. _Ever want to move a stubborn drummer out of the way? Use his pet name._

He took off his dew speckled coat and put it in the small closet just inside the door. When we was kicking off his boots, he felt Christoph's hand on his shoulder. "What's going on, Reesh?" he asked again.

Richard sighed. He turned to look at his friend and said, "You really wanna' know? If I told you, would you not ask me anything else about it?"

"C'mon!" Christoph whined a little too loud. "You're killing me!"

"Hey!" Came the deep voice from deeper in the bus. "_I'm_ gonna' kill you if you guys don't shut the hell up!"

"Now look," Richard said a little quieter. "You woke up Till. You know how he get's when you wake him up early."

"'How I get'?" Till bellowed. "If you guys don't keep it down and hit the road, I'll _get_ _Bück dich _on your asses. Don't make me come up there!"

Richard looked down the narrow hallway but said to Christoph, "Just don't worry about it. Let's get out of here." Then dissapeared into the shadows of the bus as if he were one.

Only when his friend had dissapeared into the darkness of the bus's interior did he take his seat in the co-pilot chair next to Flake. He sighed and faced foward, looking out of the wet windshield.

"What do you think all that was about?" Flake asked.

"Let's just get out of here, _Flake_" he said, prounouncing his name _Flaik._

"Dammit, man," said the keyboardist, starting the engine. "You said you wouldn't call me that any more."

* * *

This didn't take me long so don't complain if it's too short or not well written. I just wanted to write something. I don't know everything that happened to Richard that night so I made a lot of it up. Rudy was made up too. It was the only other German name I know besides Adolf, or Hans. So I chose Rudy. I don't know who drives their bus. I just thought Flake would do good as a pilot. And I do not know what Richards first guitar was. Does Till get _Bück dich_ on their asses if they get on his nerves...? Possibly... Anyway, a lot of people don't know just what event sparked Rammstein. So if you've completed this; now you do. If you didn't like it, too bad. I don't care about your opinion- but it is valued and respected. But as you leave consider this: At least I made Richard blush. Try honestly saying _that!_


End file.
